


A safe pair of hands

by domorethings



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Daddy Kink, Do Not Archive, Eggpreg, Established Relationship, M/M, Oviposition, Power Dynamics, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Sex, Stockholm Syndrome, Trans Male Character, Trans Oscar - Freeform, mild coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27531496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domorethings/pseuds/domorethings
Summary: Wilde and Zolf are safe at the end of the world. The cost is one they are both more than willing to pay.
Relationships: Apophis/Oscar Wilde (Rusty Quill Gaming), Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	A safe pair of hands

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to Rome for encouraging me.
> 
> Consider this AU from the point that Zolf and Wilde start working together. Apophis can be very convincing...
> 
> (cw: Oscar is trans, and descriptive terms used with him are cunt and cock)

If you’d asked Zolf what he expected out of joining up with Oscar Wilde, he’s not sure that any of this would’ve been even remotely near his list.

But the end of the known world brings oddities, it seems. It brings new allegiances. It brings new relationships. And it brings… this.

He watches Oscar sigh in front of the mirror, rubbing a hand over his stomach with a faint pout.

“Y’look lovely.” He says, instinctively, just to see the little flush of colour that fills Oscar’s cheeks.

“You’re just saying that.”

Zolf snorts, sitting back against the pillows and watching as Oscar continues to turn to and fro. “I’m really fucking not.”

He definitely didn’t know what he was getting into the day Oscar asked him to come to see Apophis, the man nervous and excited in equal measure. Despite everything he’s seen, it still seems like an odd time to be thinking about reproduction. But the Meritocrats are under siege with Guivres compromised and Oscar’s still determinedly aligned with them despite everything the Harlequins are trying.

For now, at least, he won’t be able to get away. Zolf’s come to terms with it.

Oscar’s getting there.

It helps Zolf that he’s been given a unique role in all of this. Zolf likes to feel useful.

Zolf also likes to fuck Oscar so it all lines up very well.

“It’s getting close.” Oscar hums, shifting his hips. HIs eyelids flutter a bit at the press of the weight inside him, and Zolf swallows, suddenly a little lightheaded.

“Doesn’t mean we can let up.”

Oscar shoots him the kind of look that he’s been on the receiving of more and more often: a mixture of fond, aroused and amused. He turns fully, placing his hands on his stomach.

“Sometimes I think you’re more into this than I am, _daddy_.”

Zolf inhales sharply, watching the effect the hungry flare of his nostrils has on the man across from him.

“Get over here.”

Oscar moves with more grace than he should given his additional weight, slow and steady as he approaches the bed. It’s such a desperately good look on him that it makes Zolf think of making it happen again, and again, the family that he’s never really wanted suddenly a possibility that makes him breathless.

It doesn’t matter now that it’s not his child. It doesn’t matter that he watched Apophis take Oscar apart and then slotted himself in between his lover’s thighs and moved until they were both utterly spent.

He’s the one that’s helped it grow.

Zolf swaps places with Oscar, guiding him onto his back and then leaning over him to steal a kiss. Oscar groans, arms coming around him and _gods_ it is easy to lose himself in their embrace.

They kiss until Oscar is gasping and arching, licking into his mouth with hungry little huffs. Zolf’s desperately hard against the bed, fighting the urge to rut and ease the pressure. That would be a waste.

They can’t afford any waste.

He shifts, gently moving Oscar’s legs apart and smiling down at the slick skin of his cunt and upper thighs. The egg has made him painfully responsive, as if his body is calling out for Zolf at all times - though in truth, that’s hardly much of a change for Oscar. What’s changed is Zolf’s response to it, the _need_ he feels to look after Oscar, to see to his care and his pleasure, to fuck him near-daily for Apophis’ approval.

He doesn’t think on it too long.

“Look at you.”

Oscar whines at the gentle admiration in Zolf’s words, at the pass of his hands, warm and tender and tinged with just a little hint of healing to ease the stretch. The skin of his belly is slowly losing its irritated redness as it spreads and accommodates the growing weight behind his navel.

“You’re doing so well.”

It draws a sob from the man’s lips as Zolf rocks his hips forward, hot and thick against the damp line of Oscar’s cunt.

“Zolf, _please_.”

Zolf can feel the egg as a smooth presence under his lover’s skin, places his hand on either side of it and squeezes, watching Oscar’s body shift and melt around the surface. He imagines, sometimes, that he might feel it if he were to fuck deep enough, but he smiles instead, knowing it’s his girth instead that keeps Oscar writhing and begging for more.

“What do you need?” He asks, tearing his eyes up away from the man’s stomach and staring at his gorgeous eyes instead, bright and wet with desperate tears.

“You, love.” Oscar gasps, rocking his hips in needy little arches when Zolf’s cock hits his.

The way the man searches for pleasure like it’s a drug makes Zolf’s head spin. He thought he was a horny bastard before the egg, but now?

Zolf takes himself in hand, rubbing the head of his cock over Oscar’s entrance. He’s already pulsing, greedy and desperate and it won’t be hard to get a couple of orgasms out of him, Zolf can tell.

“You ready?”

Oscar nods in quick jerky movements and then howls when Zolf slowly fills him, nails scratching up and down the length of Zolf’s forearms. He’s barely all the way in when Oscar laughs, lazy and overwhelmed and clenches down on his cock with rhythmic pulls.

“Fuck.” Zolf mutters, hands spreading firmer over Oscar’s belly as he draws out and then thrusts back in, watching Oscar’s head loll against the pillows.

Oscar’s wearing such a blissed out expression that it fires a bolt of arousal up Zolf’s spine and draws him into several quick thrusts, watching the way the man’s belly moves in little undulations.

“Fill me up, Zolf.” He murmurs on a breathless moan. “Do it. Apophis will be so pleased.”

Zolf shudders, remembering the way the dragon’s fingers had dipped into Oscar the last time they visited, pulling out gleaming strands of their mixed come. It had been one of the most incredibly affirming moments of his ridiculous life.

“Fuck, fuck Oscar.” He groans, chin falling to his chest and hips moving increasingly jerky, searching for release. He reaches one hand down to press his thumb against Oscar’s cock and watches the man fist hands in the pillows, back arched to present his stomach even more.

“Ah, Zolf please, please please, do it.”

There’s something about Oscar’s begging that gets him every time, and he shudders through an orgasm still rubbing at Oscar’s cock until the man moans and flutters around him again, weaker, but no less keen.

Zolf reaches off to one side and fetches up the plug they keep for this very moment, pulling out and pressing its width quickly to Oscar’s pulsing hole. The flared base will keep his come safe until they visit Apophis later.

“Come here.” Oscar murmurs, hair plastered to his sweaty forehead.

Shivers still chase over his skin as Zolf shifts up the bed to rest his head on his lover’s shoulder, palm spreading warm over Oscar’s belly. It grows every day, he used to only just be able to span the width of it and now his hand looks positively small.

“You’re so good to me.” Oscar murmurs against his forehead. “I love you.”

Zolf grins, tipping his chin up and stealing a kiss. “Love you too, Oscar.”

Later, when Oscar is disrobing in front of Apophis, the dragon cooing with delight at the heavy weight of Oscar’s stomach, Zolf forces down the possessive bile that rises when Apophis drags fingers between his lover’s legs.

“You are doing a remarkable job, Mr Smith.” Apophis smiles. “I can only extend my utmost gratitude.”

Zolf colours, nodding his head. He’s not entirely sure he should feel proud of this continued praise, especially not when Oscar is panting softly and swaying on his feet as Apophis lets his touch linger. His hands itch with the need to touch Oscar, even as he curses himself for losing sight of the fact that in relatively short order they’ll be freed of this obligation whether they want it or not.

Apophis turns his attention back to Oscar, working his fingers faster and using his other hand to swipe the hair out of Oscar’s eyes. “I would offer you a place to stay here until the happy day, but I sense that would not go over well with Mr Smith.” He all but purrs, smirking at Oscar’s desperate gasp. “Don’t you think?”

“You know how he can be.” Oscar says airily, hands sliding over his stomach.

“Yes.” Apophis replies, simple as you please. “Just as you told me.”

With that Oscar comes, pitching backwards just enough for Zolf to decide to slide in and catch him. Zolf watches Apophis wipe his hand on his trouser leg and turn away with one of his damned enigmatic smiles.

“It will be another week.” He says, confident in a way that Zolf knows not to question. “I will trust until then that you’ll maintain your responsibilities, you needn’t come here to convince me.”

Oscar smiles broadly at him as he helps him redress, lust drunk and swaying. It’s a good look on him.

All of this is.

Perhaps Apophis will be good enough to grant them another chance at helping. They’re safe here, after all. And if it protects Oscar, well…

There’s not much he won’t do.


End file.
